You went for style - and you’ve been raking for a while, out for a dress or a skirt or a gown to beguile, - (you) thought you were wise -, he should be taken by surprise, (only) half through the door he would feel he’d been presented a prize.

And then he gave you a call, he was late. Trapped by some unpleasant data, he said, holding him captive at least until nine, having a hot meal right then would be fine.

You picked a skirt – of flimsy fabric for the flirt, with laces of lacquered coating your waist-line was girt. Barbequed eel – that’s what you’ve chosen for the meal, dressed on wild rice served in japanese bowls on your heels.

Then he arrived at a quarter to ten, two of his pals both half drunk in his train, making their jokes ‘bout your delicate dress – all your endeavours were made a nice mess!